JAMES exits with RAMSAY. There is instant uproar. Utter fury.

In the middle of this, JOHN walks forward with JAMIE and stands ready to speak.

As soon as MARGARET sees this, she strides forward and pulls the staff out of his hands.

She bangs it on the floor, deliberate, determined blows. She keeps going till she has silence again.

MARGARET. No, no, that’s enough. We’ll have no more of this.

Men of Scotland? Lords of Scotland? Rulers of Scotland? God help us all. I’ll send a message to the nations of the world, shall I? I’ll them if they want to invade all they have to do is put on fancy dress and show their arses. You’ll all just run around shrieking like a bunch of geese, won’t you?

Be quiet! Now! Be quiet and listen to me!

(To JAMIE.) Jamie, sit down, will you, I’m talking.

(As he hesitates.) Jamie!

He sits down.

Well, if you’ve all finished having hysterics can someone remind me what you’re supposed to be doing here? What was it again? Oh yes, ruling Scotland. In fact I think we just heard your King giving you specific instructions to get on and do that job any way you liked. So this is your plan, is it? To stand here howling obscenities? Is anyone going to attempt any parliamentary business or will we have another shouting session? It’s time to do the job you came for, gentlemen.

JOHN. And how do you think we can do that!? The King is head of his parliament. He’s left us! We have no king!

MARGARET. You have a Queen!

I have the King’s trust. I can take the King’s place!

LORD. Aye, pillage some more of our gold, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

MARGARET. Like it? Like it? Have you blown your nose and lost your brain? Who would want the job of ruling Scotland? I’m Danish, you ignorant, abusive lump of manure! I come from a rational nation with reasonable people.

You know the problem with you lot? You’ve got fuck-all except attitude. You scream and shout about how you want things done and how things ought to be done and when the chance comes look at you! What are you frightened of? Making things worse? According to you things couldn’t get worse for Scotland!

You wear me out, do you know that? You drive me mad.

Would one of you please explain to me why it is I still love you so much? Would someone please tell me why a rational woman, born in a reasonable country, would rather live here and be your Queen than exist in quiet, happy, peace anywhere else on earth?

I am the Queen of Scots. And no, I don’t always like that. But I do love it. Always.